okay, so we're doing this
by ipsa dixit
Summary: "Well, it looks like you have two soulmate marks." - draco, charlie, and seamus in a world of soulmates


_thanks to tiggs, ana, em, and audrey for betaing!_

 _prompts at the bottom_

 _4883 words, by gdocs_

* * *

 _12th December, 1990_

…

Charlie wakes up on his eighteenth birthday feeling fresh. He feels new. He feels energized.

He immediately runs to the bathroom and starts stripping.

It's well known that an eighteenth birthday is _the_ birthday. The day you figure out who your soulmate is supposed to be. Their name should be scrawled somewhere on your body.

And, come on, the universe has made Charlie unbelievably pale — he burns in the sun, no matter how many times he refuses to put on sunscreen, insisting it'll be fine — the _least_ it could do is make his soulmate mark easy to see. Yet he has to look up and down his body to find it — it's written in a tiny scroll right above his knee.

 _Seamus F._

It's a nice name. Charlie's pretty sure it's Irish, if he recalls correctly.

It feels weird to have this new knowledge. He's not sure what he expected — fireworks, maybe? — but it really didn't make much of a difference. He didn't know his soulmate's name yesterday and he knows it today. There's nothing that feels different — he still doesn't know _who_ his soulmate is.

Charlie puts his pajamas back on slowly. He can't help but feeling _slightly_ disappointed. Not even bothering to put his shirt on — he's going to change soon, anyway — he makes his way out of the bathroom and into his dormitory.

Ian's the only one awake out of his two roommates; he's sitting up on the bed next to Charlie's, rubbing his eyes. Charlie notes that he and Simon fell asleep in the same bed — _again_.

Maybe it's Ian and Simon's fault that Charlie feels so let down. They had both realised that they were soulmates pretty early on — Ian got a ' _Simon S.'_ scrawled on his forearm when he turned eighteen, matching with the ' _Ian H.'_ that showed up a month later on Simon — and Charlie had suddenly became a third wheel to them. A _lot_ of people seem to find their soulmate right away. He knows that not everyone does, but _still_.

"Happy birthday," Ian says, yawning. He looks over Charlie's chest as he walks by. Charlie's not dumb — he knows that Ian's looking for the name of his soulmate, which is exactly why he even bothered to put on pants. This is something that should be private to him.

Charlie ignores him, though, and turns his back to him, throwing his shirt onto his bed.

"Draco M.," Ian says slowly, with an almost-chuckle.

"Who?" Charlie turns around, looking at Ian with his brows furrowed. It was obviously a name, but… who?

"You tell me," he replies, furrowing his brows at Charlie. "They're _your_ soulmate. It's on your back."

Charlie twists his next, trying to get a view of his back. He can't, unfortunately.

"Draco-whoever isn't my soulmate though," Charlie says, frowning at Ian. He yanks up his pants to show Ian his _actual_ soulmate mark. "Seamus F. is."

Ian furrows his brows, standing up and grabbing Charlie's shoulder to force him to turn around.

"Well, it looks like you have two soulmate marks."

…

 _15th March, 1998_

…

Seamus wakes up twitchy on his birthday. Well, nowadays he _always_ wakes up twitchy on his birthday — the Carrows could catch them at any moment — but he wakes up extra twitchy on this birthday.

In all truthfulness, he didn't even think he'd live to his eighteenth birthday, but here he is.

He should check, right?

He should be in the bathroom in a flash and be looking all over his body for a fucking soulmate mark but…

But what's the point?

Seamus can think of ten different reasons why he doesn't care about soulmates. First off, he's pretty sure his soulmate won't be Dean. Which will fucking suck. Because Dean's _Dean_. Seamus doesn't need a fucking soulmate tattoo to tell him whether or not to love Dean.

Soulmates are bullshit.

Fuck it, _love_ is bullshit.

But even if love is bullshit, Seamus is around ninety percent sure that he loves Dean. He doesn't need a soulmate mark with someone else's name to control his life and blow up his relationship with Dean. Who Seamus is worried sick over because he's on the fucking run from Death Eaters. Isn't _that_ love? Worrying about someone until it affects your health?

So Seamus decided to _not_ go worrying about soulmate marks and instead to worry about Dean. Who he _loves_.

Seamus leans back onto his cot, stretching his arms out in front of him. Making that decision already makes him feel better.

Until he glances at the tiny writing on his right index finger. One look won't hurt, right?

 _Draco M_.

Well, Seamus knows exactly one person named Draco. He also knows exactly one person named Draco M.

Malfoy.

That doesn't even make sense. They'd be awful together. They're everything a couple isn't. Malfoy hates Seamus. Seamus hates Malfoy.

Further proof that soulmates are bullshit.

…

 _5th June, 1998_

…

There's no spots open in St Mungo's dining hall. There's been so many new Healer trainees after the war that Draco can _never_ get a seat during their lunch break. Today's not any different. Great. Happy birthday to Draco.

It's been almost a month since Draco's started Healer training and he's already the most disliked person there. Understandable. He usually just eats his lunch in the bathroom — he doesn't have enough energy to deal his fellow trainees thinking he's going to blow them up — but today's his _birthday_. Maybe it's bratty of him to expect to have anything going for him — he screwed up too badly during the war for any good karma — but all he wants it to be able to eat in the stupid dining hall with everyone else.

Straining his eyes, Draco looks around one last time — maybe, _maybe_ there'll be just one seat open he could take.

And then he sees it: there's one seat open at a table for two, right across from —

Oh.

Draco doesn't really hold any grudges. That's not a thing he cares about. There was an argument? Fine. He'll get over it. The only person Draco has ever held a grudge against was Potter and he was... Well, he was Potter.

But for some reason he can't make himself approach the only person who's sitting alone — a Gryffindor who was in his year. Whose face is still covered with scars. Whose name Draco can't even remember — something with an 'F', maybe?

Whose entire presence makes Draco's stomach churn.

Still, he'll be damned if he's eating in the bathroom on his birthday. That Gryffindor is better than no one.

"Anyone sitting here?" Draco asks, hovering over the Gryffindor and feeling awkward. He should just leave. This was an awful idea. The awfulness is confirmed when the Gryffindor looks up at him, his blue eyes growing wide and fearful.

"No," he says despite the fear in his eyes. He runs a hand through his sandy hair as Draco raises his eyebrows and sits down, placing his lunch on the small table.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco says loudly, hoping that his loudness will cover the tangible tension.

"I know," he says, biting into an apple. He looks more scared than he did a few seconds ago. Draco stares pointedly at him — does this person _really_ not know that if someone introduces themselves, they want an introduction _back_? He knows that Gryffindors aren't the brightest, but he never thought that they don't know simple social cues.

The Gryffindor's sandwich bursts into flames in front of them on the table and Draco pushes his chair away while the Gryffindor, totally calm, extinguishes it with his wand. Does that just _happen_ to Gryffindors?

"I'm Seamus Finnigan," he says, putting his wand away and letting out a cough. Draco's pretty sure that it's not from the little amount of smoke coming up from the burnt lump that used to be a sandwich.

"Right," Draco says, slowly moving his chair back.

"That happens sometimes," Seamus explains, gesturing. Draco looks at his hand, spotting an elegant cursive on his right index finger. Before he can read it, though, Seamus spots him staring and quickly draws his hand away.

"Soulmate mark," he says, grimacing at Draco. Draco raises his eyebrows at Seamus again.

Theoretically, Draco should have a soulmate mark somewhere on his body — it should've appeared _today_ — but he couldn't be bothered to check. One perk of Healer training is that he has to get up so early that he can't deal with silly little things like soulmates marks.

Draco doesn't think love is stupid — he's not _that_ much of a cynic — but there's not a lot of people that he knows of that actually like him. Most of the people that he knows like him, he doesn't like _like that_. There's a very small overlap, which means whoever Draco's soulmate is will probably end up engulfed in flames.

Maybe he is that much of a cynic.

Still, he didn't check today — his eighteenth birthday, when the mark should appear.

Draco tries to convey all of these thoughts to Seamus in a single eyebrow raise. He should probably stop with the eyebrow raises.

He doesn't think Seamus got any of it.

…

When he gets home Draco peels off his robes, absolutely exhausted. He knows that he signed up to be a Healer, but he hopes that he doesn't have to see much more of people half-Transfigured.

Laying down on his bed, he can see his toes. He wiggles them to make sure they still work. They do.

There's a small black bit of writing he can see on one of his toes and he already knows what it is. There's no harm in checking, even if it might amount to nothing…

Draco draws it closer to him, looking at the messy scribble on the side of his right foot.

' _Seamus F._ '

Oh.

 _Oh_.

…

 _6th June, 1998_

…

Seamus wakes up cursing Draco Malfoy.

Well, he doesn't curse Draco Malfoy, he curses the universe to make life so _fucking_ complicated. Because of course his soulmate is Draco fucking Malfoy. Because of course _Draco's_ soulmate isn't him. Because of course Seamus broke up with Dean for Draco —who he doesn't know the middle name of, so it shall be 'Fucking' until further notice — Malfoy. Because of course Seamus screwed up and lost the one person he maybe, sort of, kind of, loved, once upon a time, so he could make way for his soulmate — who he's not even the soulmate of.

 _That doesn't even make any sense_.

Seamus gave Draco plenty of time to admit that Seamus is his soulmate and he just _didn't_. To be fair, Seamus didn't either, but _still_.

Uch.

Seamus trudges through Healer training today, his brain full of love and soulmates (both of which are still bullshit, but he can't knock them out of his mind). Once lunch arrives, he takes his normal seat and looks around, searching out his target.

Draco's easy enough to find, though — he slams his hands down on Seamus' table, causing the table to jump and some people to look over at them.

Seamus doesn't know what's going on, but Draco looks mad as he takes a seat across from Seamus.

"Yesterday was my birthday," he says, hissing the words out.

 _Oh_.

Seamus didn't even consider the fact that Draco might not have even _seen_ his soulmate mark. They actually _could_ be soulmates. This makes things better, right? Well, except for the fact that his soulmate is Draco Fucking Malfoy

"Happy birthday," Seamus says, deciding to play it cool. There should be _nothing_ to freak out about. It's possible that they're not even soulmates.

Draco raises his eyebrows at Seamus, obviously waiting. Seamus shrugs.

"Can I see your hand?" Draco asks after a moment, his eyebrows still raised.

Biting his lip, Seamus extends his left hand. Draco isn't amused.

"Your _other_ hand."

Seamus sucks in a sharp breath, but shows Draco his right hand, along with the cursive proclaiming Draco as his soulmate.

"So," Draco says, staring at Seamus' hand in his. Draco's hands are warm, Seamus notes. He can't make his throat work at the moment. It's stuck. He nods his head slowly. They're both quiet.

"We're soulmates," Seamus says finally, saying the statement that's on his mind and that he's pretty sure is on Draco's mine, too. Draco hasn't let go of his hand.

"Yeah."

They're both quiet.

"So, do you want to go on a date with me, or…?" Seamus asks, trailing off. _Carpe diem_ , he thinks. If they're soulmates, than they should _be_ soulmates. Even if the whole concept is still bullshit. He wants to try anyway.

Even with Draco Fucking Malfoy, who he's supposed to hate. His brain is exploding.

"Sure," Draco says, giving Seamus a small smile.

Seamus returns it.

…

 _13th June, 1998_

…

Draco has never been on a real date before.

This hits him like a blunt stick to the forehead. He went to the Yule Ball with Pansy, sure, but that's really all he's ever done. What if he screws this up?

He's considering flopping down on his bed and just _not going_ because this is ridiculous. He doesn't _want_ to be soulmates with Seamus.

He picks himself up, though, and goes anyway — it'd be a douchey move to leave Seamus all alone. Also, Draco would have to encounter Seamus again. He would _not_ want to deal with the repercussions.

The place Seamus picked is a 'Chinese restaurant' which Draco doesn't think sounds appealing. Seamus told him that'd be good, but Draco's skeptical. He's skeptical about this entire date.

"Hi," Seamus says as Draco sits down, looking around. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees what Seamus is wearing — simple Muggle clothes. Draco didn't want to overdress.

"Hi," he responds, drumming his fingers on the table. Something is _bound_ to go wrong. This is all going to go to hell.

"You okay?" Seamus asks, looking at Draco's fingers. Draco shakes his hands and runs them through his hair, forcing a smile at Seamus.

"Yeah," he replies, now tapping his foot. "Just a bit nervous."

Seamus gives him a real smile, a dimple forming on his cheek and something in Draco feels _calmer_. Okay. He can do this.

This is fine. This is good.

…

 _6th November, 2001_

…

 _Maybe_ going to St Mungo's is a slight overreaction, but Victoire has a fever _and_ has been throwing up and Charlie has no idea how to do any healing spells or how to take care of a baby. Well, not a _baby_ — a one and a half year old, as Bill reminded him when he was coerced into babysitting in the first place. Plenty old enough for Charlie to take care of.

Apparently not, because Charlie isn't capable of taking care of any living being that's not a dragon — half of the time he forgets to take care of _himself_.

A Healer walks towards him — the one with sandy hair and blue eyes that admitted Victoire.

"She's fine," he says as Charlie gets up to meet him. "I gave her a Fever-reducing potion; she's just sleeping it off."

Charlie nods. So she's not dead — that was his worst fear. No way would Bill trust him with _anything_ ever again.

"Thank you..." Charlie trails off, waiting for a name.

"Seamus Finnigan."

Charlie's heart stops and the soulmate mark on his knee tingles. _What?_ He's probably going delusional.

"What'd you say?" Charlie asks. He needs to _make sure_ because this could be it. This Healer could be his soulmate — no, he's _sure_ that this Healer is his soulmate. He needs one. He's been without his soulmate for far too long — and he has _two_ of them.

"Seamus Finnigan," Seamus repeats. Charlie lets out a little laugh.

"Can I tell you something crazy?" Charlie asks, because he's _going to do it_. Opportunity is _slapping_ him in the face. He's not letting it go unnoticed.

"Sure," Seamus says, sounding completely unsure.

"I'm Charlie Weasley."

Charlie waits for fireworks to go off, some balloons, maybe for Seamus to sweep him up and kiss him and proclaim his love even though they've only just met — they're _soulmates_.

Nothing happens.

"How is that crazy?" Seamus asks, furrowing his brows.

Charlie's heart plummets. It's not crazy that ' _Charles W._ ' is written somewhere on Seamus' body and they just happened to bump into each other? He's glad he wore short trousers today — he yanks up his left pant leg to reveal his soulmate mark that's been there for _eleven years_.

"You're my soulmate," Charlie explains, the words falling out of his mouth.

Seamus looks at the writing above Charlie's knee and shakes his head.

"I have a boyfriend," he says, talking slowly, as if Charlie was one of Seamus' patients. " _My_ soulmate."

Seamus shows Charlie a fancy cursive on his right index finger: ' _Draco M.'_

Charlie's heart stops again and he's pretty glad that he's in St Mungo's.

He has no idea what's going on.

"Well, _he's_ my soulmate, too," Charlie says quickly, his heart beating in his throat. Seamus narrows his eyes at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I have two soulmates," Charlie explains. "I can't show you my other mark — it's on my back — but I got two soulmate marks when I turned eighteen. You and Draco."

It even sounds crazy to Charlie. People don't have _two_ soulmates. Maybe Seamus _does_ …?

Seamus shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, I don't…"

Charlie sighs. Right. He's just bound to be alone.

He's starting to hate the concept of soulmates.

…

There's some sense of irony that Draco, who works at a place where a bunch of people are _sick_ , can't even go into work. To be fair, he'll probably make their problems worse, but he's still _bored_ ; Seamus is perfectly okay, so Draco's at home alone.

He's currently staring at himself in the mirror, his shirt off. He doesn't know _why_ he decided to stare at himself but he just hasn't seen himself in a while. _Really_ seen himself.

Merlin, he hasn't looked properly at himself since sixth year at Hogwarts. That's a good _four_ years. He hated himself for one of those years and he's been too busy staring at Seamus for the past three years.

He looks older, he notes.

Draco looks older.

Draco feels older.

He _is_ older.

He's also happier. It's absurd. He didn't even know Seamus was a person four years ago. He was just another Gryffindor that he hated. Now, though, Seamus is _so much_ more than that.

He's also wasting his time in front of the mirror. He should do some work; there's still mounds of paperwork to fill out.

Stretching his arms out above his head, Draco lets out a yawn. Something in his reflection catches his eyes — something black on the side of his chest. Keeping his arms raised, Draco moves closer to the mirror to see a dark cursive. It's a soulmate mark — that much is obvious — except…

Draco already has a soulmate.

Draco looks down at his foot to make sure his tattoo of ' _Seamus F._ ' is still there, and it is. He looks back up at the mirror, trying to read the cursive backwards. After a few moments, he's pretty sure he has it:

' _Charles W._ '

He has another soulmate. Can that even _happen_?

He should tell Seamus.

…

Seamus comes home around six, his mind still reeling from work. Charlie Weasley. There can't be _that_ many Weasleys in the world; he's definitely related to Ron. Should Seamus tell Ron that he and his boyfriend are both his brother's soulmates?

No, he hasn't talked to Ron in ages.

He can't get Charlie out of his head, though — what if he _does_ have two soulmates? What if some people just have more than one soulmate? Should he check? Should he tell Draco to check?

Right away, Draco is in his face, pressing a kiss onto his lips. Seamus is suspicious. What did Draco do?

"Hi, love," he says, trying to push down his suspicion; the worst thing Draco could probably do is try and cook the Muggle way — again. No matter how many times Seamus tells him how to use the stove properly, Draco always seems to forget. There's no smoke in the air, though, so it's probably something really small that Draco thinks Seamus will be upset about.

"Hey, Shay," Draco says, brushing a piece of hair out of Seamus' forehead. Seamus shakes his head to mess it up more — just because he knows Draco _hates_ when his hair is messy.

"I want to tell you about my day," Seamus says leading the way into their kitchen. They moved in with each other last year; it was easier than Seamus having to pay all of the rent by himself and Draco living in his parents' house.

"I have to tell you something, too," Draco says, sitting down at their table. "I already ordered Chinese food for us."

Seamus smiles and rolls his eyes; Draco has had a fucking _obsession_ with Chinese food ever since Seamus brought him to that little hole-in-the-wall place on their first date. It's the only reason Draco even bothers with a Muggle phone — to order the two of them Chinese food whenever Seamus doesn't tell him to eat healthier.

"I'll go first, then?" Seamus offers as Draco leans back. He probably shouldn't be gossiping about work, but Charlie wasn't a patient — there's no confidentiality with him.

"Sure," Draco says, smiling at Seamus again.

"There was this person at work who was saying that he had two soulmate marks," Seamus starts, sitting down across from Draco, "and that _we_ were both of them."

Draco frowns at that, and he opens his mouth as if he's about to respond, but the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it," Seamus offers, already getting up. He should probably leave Draco to think about his news first, even if it's probably going to amount to nothing. He pays the man and brings their food back to the table, the smell of Lo Mein already hitting his nose.

"Two soulmate marks," Draco says as Seamus starts opening the food.

"Yeah," Seamus says, grabbing a fork for himself; he could never really get the hang of chopsticks. "I've never heard of it, but it got me thinking — what if some people _did_ have two soulmate marks?" He slurps up a noodle, looking at Draco, who's fumbling with his beef and broccoli.

"Maybe," is all Draco responds, which just tells Seamus that he _definitely_ has more thoughts on the topic.

"I never really checked for a soulmate mark," Seamus continues, trying to get Draco to say what's on his mind. This always seems to happen — Draco never _talks_. "I always thought that they were bullshit. It's really only chance that I saw yours." Seamus taps his finger with the side of his fork, where his soulmate mark is. "What if I _did_ have two marks?"

Draco exhales loudly and Seamus waits, forcing a few more noodles into his mouth and slurping them, just to annoy Draco.

"I have a second soulmate mark, Shay," Draco says finally, over Seamus' slurping. "That's what I wanted to tell you."

Seamus pauses eating, one noodle hanging out of his mouth.

"What?" Seamus says, swallowing his bite. "Who's your second soulmate?"

"Charles W," Draco says, licking his lips. Seamus almost wants to laugh, because that's crazy. The universe is putting pieces into place here, and it's almost blowing Seamus' mind. Charlie is just a nickname for Charles, isn't it?

"Charlie Weasley," Seamus says, letting out a little chuckle.

"What?" Draco asks, looking Seamus' face up and down.

"That's who was talking to me at work," Seamus explains, putting down his fork. "We're his soulmates. And he's yours. And he _could_ be mine too, I don't know."

"Two soulmates?" Draco asks, furrowing his brows and pushing his plate away. "How is that even supposed to work?"

Seamus shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe the same way we've been doing everything so far, just with someone else, too."

Something is tingling in his brain. This is crazy and thrilling and Seamus is aching to find out if Charlie's _his_ soulmate, too. Maybe soulmates aren't _entirely_ bullshit. This is setting something off in Seamus' heart. He gets up, leaning to give Draco a quick kiss.

"I'm going to see if I have a second soulmate mark."

…

 _13th November, 2001_

…

Draco is gripping Seamus' hand more than needed, but it brings him some comfort as Seamus squeezes his hand back. _Some_.

"This is a stupid idea," he says, slumping his shoulders. All morning, anxiety has been crawling over his insides. He _really_ wants to go home.

"Probably," Seamus starts, giving Draco's hand another squeeze, "but Ron said that Charlie leaves to go back to Romania _today_. It could be our last chance to talk to him."

Draco bites his lip because he doesn't understand why they're there at all — there are so many reasons for this to go wrong.

"Exactly, Shay." Draco says. "He lives in Romania. Why are we bugging him?"

Seamus sends Draco a withering look, which shuts Draco up. He _really_ doesn't like being at the Weasel's house, but Seamus raises a fist and knocks at the door.

There's two moments of silence and Draco wants to tell Seamus that they should just go home — no one's here! — when the door swings open.

The first thing Draco notices is that Seamus lets go of his hand. The second is that he doesn't recognise the Weasley who opened the door. They all blur together a little bit. This one has brutally short hair and muscled arms, covered in burns. Judging by the look on Seamus' face, though, _he_ recognises him, which means —

"Charlie," Seamus says. Draco's stomach drops and twists. He doesn't want this to happen. He wants to _go home_.

"Seamus," Charlie says, raising an eyebrow. He looks Draco up and down — Draco can _feel_ his brown eyes tracing him — and gives a little chuckle. "And this must be Draco. What brings you guys here?"

Seamus hesitates — Draco can feel his body tense up next to him — and Draco grabs Seamus' hand, staring Charlie down.

"Soulmates," Draco says, trying to stop biting his tongue. Yup, he was right — this is _exactly_ as awkward as he thought it'd be.

"Soulmates," Charlie repeats. It's Draco's turn to squeeze Seamus' hand instead.

"As in, you're ours."

The sentence lingers in the air for a few moments.

"Right," Charlie responds slowly. He looks, skeptical, and all Draco can think is how _wrong_ being here is. They should leave it alone and go home. Draco shoots Seamus a look, but Seamus is looking right at Charlie, furrowing his brows.

"You want to go for a walk?" Seamus asks, still staring at Charlie. Draco wishes he knew what Seamus is thinking.

Charlie nods.

…

It's crazy. Charlie's insane. He doesn't know how to do this.

He's never dated _one_ person. He doesn't know how he'd even date two.

Still, the universe seems to be egging this on — the bloody universe made the three of them soulmates, the bloody universe made Victoire sick so Charlie would meet Seamus, and the bloody universe is _still_ working to push them together — it made Charlie miss his initial Portkey so he's even _here_ now.

"I —" Charlie says. He doesn't know what to say. His tongue feels too big for his mouth and his throat is as rough as sawdust.

"I know," Seamus says, reaching out a hand. Does Charlie take it, or…? He leaves his hands awkwardly by his sides, taking in both Draco and Seamus.

Draco doesn't say much. Charlie, just by looking at him, can tell that he _wants_ to say something, he just doesn't know how to. Charlie gets that.

Seamus is the one who's doing all the talking. He's the Gryffindor in their relationship — Charlie can tell that much. He's obsessively squeezing Draco's hand over and over again, in little motions.

They compliment each other. Charlie wants something like that — someone who can speak for him, someone to comfort him when he doesn't even know _why_ he should be comforted.

And here's Draco and Seamus, essentially offering him that.

"There's going to be some kinks to work out," Draco says, speaking up with a cough. "There always is. We just want to work them out together. With you."

Charlie falters. He'd like that.

When Seamus reaches out his hand again, Charlie takes it.

…

 _13th November, 2002_

…

There's nothing to hate about soulmates, not anymore. They aren't bullshit.

Charlie's hands are so rough — he works with dragons for a living. They have calluses. On the other hand, Draco's are soft. He might have a _slight_ obsession with moisturising.

Seamus likes holding both.

* * *

 _for:_

 _the houses competition [gryffindor, year 7, themed - hate]_

 _assignment 10 [muggle music, task 3 - soulmate!au]_

 _cocktails [apple]_

 _debate club [soulmate trope]_

 _photography [burns archive]_

 _scavenger hunt [write a slash pairing]_

 _film festival [19, 25]_

 _morsome may [soulmate!au]_

 _writing club [char app - last; the lion king - nala; showtime - i dreamed a dream; lyric alley - 9; sophie's shelf - madame lulu; emy's emporium - polyamory]_

 _chocolate frogs [quong po]_


End file.
